We stepped from the street out onto the beach just north of the US border, and immediately, Laurie said, "What's that?"
"That" was a huge, dark lump in a tree south of us, black and shapeless against the light, too big for a bald eagle. We walked down to see, and it waited for us until we got the light at our backs, then flew off to stand on a post in the bay.
A golden eagle! The first I've seen in the wild! (As far as I know.)
|With Mount Baker in the background.|
|A juvenile, by the white patches under the tail and on the wings.|
A woman walking on the shore told us they nest on the cliffs above the bay, in Point Roberts.
On the way to this piling, the eagle swooped down, towards a heron fishing in the tidepools. The heron saw him coming, and rose to meet him, beak agape, squawking angrily. The eagle changed his mind and swerved up, to sit and sulk on the post.
We both missed the shot.
Two more photos tomorrow, once I've resized them.